


The End

by Martin Iceworth (Iceworth)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Blood and Gore, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iceworth/pseuds/Martin%20Iceworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme prompt. Non-Starchild AU; Garrus and Liara brave the beam to look for Shepard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

Garrus had seen horror before.

It came with being a C-Sec officer. Every now and then, past the traffic violations and shop lifting, he’d been allowed a glimpse into a darker society that ran beneath the surface. He’d helped pack bloody turian bones into a body bag. He’d trilled softly to a scarred human boy as his parents were shoved into a squad car. And Spirits knew, he’d seen just as bad and worse fighting with Shepard.

None of it prepared him for this.

The trip up the beam had been a bumpy ride; his last thought had been of the mako and the conduit years ago, and the words, _maybe this was a bad idea_ , sifted through his head as he remembered what happened to that particular vehicle. But as he reached the peak of his ascension his velocity slowed; he arced through a tunnel. Fell heavily on the ground into a puddle of something.

The stench overwhelmed him. He gagged, and struggled to sit up. A thud and a grunt beside him alerted him to Liara’s presence. Liquid covered Garrus’s side and face as he regained control of himself, rubbing his scarred mandible.

A soft gasp beside him. “ _Goddess_.”

Garrus looked up.

He wished he hadn’t.

Light glinted against a red layer of liquid that congealed on the floor. Piles of corpses oozed and reeked. The occasional Keeper squelched their way through the dead, scavenging for helmets and armour. Only then did Garrus remember what colour human blood was. Underneath the taste of putrefaction in the air was a hint of iron.

Liara retched. Garrus swallowed down the bile and forced himself to stand. Somehow, the redness of the blood didn’t make it as unbearable as it could have been; if it had been blue… but it was red. It looked more like a strange coloured oil, surreal in its appearance. “We have to find Shepard.” _Spirits. Don’t let her be one of these bodies. Please…_

“Goddess,” said Liara. “Is this the first thing she saw?”

Garrus pressed his mandibles flat against the side of his face and covered his mouth, but still the taste lingered as they moved through the graveyard. Liara fished a mask from a pocket, swallowing again and again. The Keepers continued their morbid duty, barely casting the two of them more than a glance.

The wall opened with a gust of air that had never tasted so good. A trail of blood led down the ramp in front of him, over the bridge and towards the light in front of him. Garrus’ heart almost stopped. He saw a red handprint on the ground.

He knew it by its size. He knew how small the hand was, when its palm was pressed to his, how slender and delicate her many fingers had been. Liara’s breath hitched as she saw it. Their pace picked up. The floor sticked underneath their boots. Liara took off her mask.

There was nothing, here, but silence. A silver abyss to their sides. A slope in front of them, steep enough to be difficult to climb up with the exhaustion that clung to their bones.

A massive room gave them a cold welcome at the top.

Bodies. Three of them. All human.

Two male humans, he saw and barely recognised as familiar. When he saw the third, he stopped breathing. He rushed to her side without even noticing his legs move. Human skin had always been fragile, but he’d never seen it like this, mottled and distorted with splotches and burns that barely left an inch of her face untouched. Her armour had been burned off her body. It had melted, and hardened again, leaving it distorted like his vision was, now, with the tears in his eyes. Her badly-singed hair curled several inches shorter than it had been only less than an hour ago. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and caked the arm that curled close to her body.

“Get Chakwas,” he snapped at Liara. He yanked off his gauntlet and felt her throat for a pulse. _Please. Please. Shepard, you can’t be dead, please don’t be dead…_ “Shepard. Wake up.” Where was her pulse? Shit, he didn’t know anything about human biology, they did have pulses in their neck, didn’t they? He’d seen it on the vids; a human’s skin was so much thinner than a turian’s, he should be able to feel her pulse! “Shepard, wake up!”

Then he felt it; a bare movement underneath his fingertips. Her eye cracked open, the other swollen shut, and his shattered world pieced itself together again in front of his eyes. Her eye met his, and she smiled.

“Look,” she said.

He turned around.

He saw the wide open arms of the Citadel. He saw earth, the edge of its globe kissing the bottom of the windows. Black things drifted in a field of stars. Explosions flowered orange before the vacuum sucked the life from them, and debris rolled towards the atmosphere, lured by the promise of gravity. He saw the shells of the Reapers, some spinning and tumbling to earth as they dissolved. Others floated in orbit, nothing more than empty shells.

Her shaking hand reached for him. He took it. Squeezed it. He could barely see her through his tears.

“We did it.” Her voice was a weak thing, even in the silent room.

He clung to her hand, as if she’d die if he let go. There was something in his throat as he talked, something that choked him. “We did.”

She smiled again. Closed her eyes.

“Shepard?” Shit, shit, shit, _no, no, no_. “Shepard!”

Her hand squeezed his, and with it came a shot of relief direct into his blood stream like a drug hit.

“Don’t let go,” he implored her. “Please, Shepard, don’t — “

“Chakwas is coming,” said Liara. “She’s got a medical team with her. Lie her down, I’ll elevate her legs.”

“Shepard.” Garrus forced himself to obey Liara, to let go of her hand, to ignore the winces of pain she gave as he lowered her, as gently as he could, onto the ground. At least one of her legs were broken; were you supposed to elevate the legs if there was a break? Dammit, he didn’t know.

 “Liara,” said Garrus. “The others — “

“Dead,” said Liara. “Anderson and the Illusive Man. Both gone. I checked.”

“Mmph.” Shepard groped for Garrus’ wrist. As Liara rose her legs, she whimpered, and clutched him tighter.

"Shepard." He massaged the back of her hand. "Hang on. Please."

She cracked a weak smile. “Relax, big guy. Not going anywhere.”

“You better not.” He lay down beside her.

“I was going to die.” Her head turned and rested in the space in his cowl, as if the cold metal armour wasn’t there. “Wanted to die. It was… all over. Finally. So much pain, just wanted to let go…”

“Shepard…”

“Remembered you.” He felt her smile against his neck. “Couldn’t leave you. Can’t leave you. Never.”

As Liara listened to the distant buzz of Chakwas’ voice, as the Reaper corpses drifted in front of their eyes, as the fleets manoeuvred through the fields of dead Reapers like Garrus had picked his way through human remains, he curled an arm around Shepard. She shivered. He held her fragile, hurting body as closely as he dared. 

He pressed his mouth to her hair. “Never.”


End file.
